


At the end of the season

by that_which (which)



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:57:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/which/pseuds/that_which
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most travellers do not have the forethought to bring along a hostess gift in case of emergency strickitude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the end of the season

I really, really want to kick somebody in the head right now.

Now, Ray. There have been many times that you and I have owed our survival in the harsh conditions of the frozen north to the kindness of strangers. We should be grateful that our humble pied-á-neige gave shelter to all these stricken travelers.

Did I say that I didn't want to help stricken travelers? I'm all about helping stricken travelers. If you ask 100 people on the streets of Chicago who they would look for if they were looking to unload a stricken traveler, they the most of them would choose me. Which, I feel a need to point out, is how I know that most travelers do not have the forethought to bring along a hostess gift in case of emergency strickitude.

I'm not convinced that's an actual word, Ray.

I can multitask, Fraser. I am fully capable of not giving a shit while at the same time kicking you in the head.

Violence rarely solves anything, Ray. And to be honest, I'm not entirely certain what it is you're so upset about.

You're not certain.

Not entirely.

How about this: we have this cabin, shanty, lean-to, shelter, wooden structure up here in the snowy wastes of half the hell to nowhere...

For the sake of argument, let's call it a shack.

...which is supposed to be part of our private adventure.

Yes. Yes it is.

So we get back here, the wood pile is practically gone, and there are gift baskets on the table piled halfway to the ceiling. Nobody buys these gift baskets, Fraser. These are regifted baskets of cheese and rye crackers somebody's copier repairman sent out in 1993.

I must say, I'm partial to a good nut log.

That, Fraser, is because you're a freak.

Noted.

And it's also beside the point. Which is that somewhere on the internet we are apparently listed on a Things To Do on the Tundra When You're Stricken website, and a parade of people who needed somewhere to duck in out of the permafrost have been streaming through here all winter.

Well, they're gone now, and we have all the potted cheese food product we need to supplement our diet for years to come.

In my case, I gotta tell you, that is not a lot of potted cheese food product.

I don't feel as if you're looking on the positive aspects of the situation, Ray.

And what positive aspects would those be, exactly?

Well, for one, until we have a chance to get more wood, we can stay warm burning thank you notes.


End file.
